


Your Light Will Terrify the Dark

by ohdaenerys



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdaenerys/pseuds/ohdaenerys
Summary: Despite being a Teryn's daughter, Ophelia Cousland dreams of a grander life. One that is filled with sword fights and adventure, but is instead forced to play the noble lady and entertain the wives of dignitaries. However, all of that comes crashing down when tragedy strikes, forcing her out of her very own home and losing everything she loved in the process. Darkness and light are two sides of the same coin, but will Ophelia strive more towards the light? Or will darkness overcome her in her need for vengeance and the will to survive?With the impending darkspawn invasion, and a civil war threatening to break out across Ferelden... will she be able to put a stop to it all and save her homeland? Or will it all be too late to stop the inevitable?
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. The Rose of Highever

It was a warm, mid-summer day in Highever, and Ophelia Cousland was spending her afternoon reading in her favorite spot—by the white marble fountain at the center of the courtyard. The sun made the surface of the water glisten as she sat perched on the edge of the fountain, trailing her fingers in the water as she read. The book itself was a classic novel, and one of her favorites—it was the telling of a knight who fell in love with a peasant girl, who happened to be the lost princess of a kingdom in dire need of saving.

Although she was renowned as a skilled warrior with sword and shield, that didn’t change the fact that Ophelia loved to escape her dreary life in such frivolous novels about love, adventures, and dashing heroes. She often dreamed that one day she would get to see more of the world, instead of being trapped behind the confines of these castle walls. Of course, she knew such frivolous things were nothing but rubbish. Life was not a song, nor was it a fairytale. It was real, and it was unyielding.

“Surely you have more pressing matters to attend to than watching over me, Ser Gilmore? I’m sure no harm will come of me, I promise.”

The Knight in question stood a few paces across the yard. He had reddish-brown hair and wore a full set of armor which bore the Cousland sigil at the center, while a sword was strapped to his hip. Ophelia thought he was quite comely and often thought if her father, the Teryn of Highever, would ever consider having them wed. It would be much better than spending the rest of her life with some noble’s son, which would be spent as her being the dutiful wife while her husband attended essential matters.

“I know you’re more than capable of defending yourself, my lady, but your father would have my hide if I left your side,” Ser Gilmore said, with a slight chuckle.

Ophelia looked up and set the book aside. “My father would do no such thing! He may be stern, but he would never do harm to those that are loyal to him. And please, you know how much I hate being called that.”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of the Knight’s mouth. “As you say, _my lady.”_

Ophelia scoffed. “ _Now_ , you are just doing it to annoy me.”

Ser Gilmore made a gesture as if hurt, while not hiding the smile from his face. “Oh! You wound me with such words, my lady! What have I done to earn such spitefulness?”

“Roderick, you are utterly impossible! Out of all the guardsmen, how is it that my father chose you to be my shield?”

The Knight laughed. “I ask myself that every day, Maker only knows what your father thought when he chose me as such.”

Ophelia smiled. She had known Roderick since he was a boy. She remembered the day when his father had come to Highever to offer his son as a squire. It was then that her father, Teryn Bryce Cousland, had appointed him to be her protector, and it was also the reason why they were now such good friends. While growing up, they often spent their time talking about adventures and the heroes that came before. Most of the time, her brother, Fergus, was with them, but as time passed, he had become more and more preoccupied with his duties in becoming the next Teryn.

“Well, he must have seen something in you, Roderick. My father would never appoint just _anybody_ to such an important task,” Ophelia said, as she gazed down at her reflection in the water.

She wore her fiery, red hair in a plait that encircled her crown as it helped keep her cool during the warm season. There was no doubt that she was beautiful, as it was said that she often turned the heads of every young noble upon entering a room. Her eyes gave her a unique beauty as they differed in color — one being brown while the other resembled a blue similar to that of the sky.

“Perhaps it was my irresistible charm? Who knows?” Roderick teased.

“Were you always this insufferable? Because I don’t remember you being as such,” Ophelia said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, _I_ don’t recall you complaining as much before, Ophelia.”

She scoffed. “At any rate, come sit next to me, would you? Surely your feet deserve a rest now and then.” She patted the spot next to her, inviting Ser Gilmore to sit beside her.

“Just… promise me you won’t push me into the water, okay?”

Ophelia chuckled. “I would never! Do you think of me as such a terrible person that I would dare to even think of doing something so… _cruel?_ ”

“Well, it’s hard to say what schemes are going on in that head of yours, Ophelia,” Roderick said, as he sat beside her. “You may appear to be some innocent creature to others, but I know better than to believe such things.”

“I think you have been listening to Old Nan a bit too much. I happen to be entirely innocent if I may say so.”

Ser Gilmore boomed with laughter. “As you say, _my lady.”_

Ophelia wanted to smack the smile off his face, or perhaps kiss it off. She wasn’t entirely sure which it was. Looking up at the Knight, however, it occurred to her that other than her family, he was the only one who had never looked away when she set her eyes upon him. Everyone else practically squirmed as if something unnerved them in such a big way that they wished to be as far away as they could muster. _Why must the Maker be so cruel and curse me with such things?_ Ophelia thought sadly. _Soon father will grow tired of searching, and I will have to spend the rest of my days as a cloistered sister within the confines of a Chantry._

“I hate to interrupt such a delightful conversation, but I would like to speak to my dear sister,” came a voice from across the yard.

“Of course, my lord,” Ser Gilmore answered, abruptly standing and then offering a slight bow.

Following the source of the voice, her eyes landed on a comely young man with hair the color of flame and bright, blue eyes. It was as if she were looking in her own reflection, except while both of his eyes were the same color, one of hers was brown.

“Fergus!” Ophelia shouted as she ran over to her brother, crushing him in a hug. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too, little sister,” Fergus replied, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re well, I hope?”

Ophelia beamed. “I’m well, Fergus, and I hope you fare the same as well, dear brother. Walk with me? I’m sure you have some important business to attend to with Father.” Together, they left the courtyard and continued toward the main hall while Ser Gilmore followed at a distance.

Looking over at her brother, Ophelia saw the weariness on his face. He had been sent away by their father on some unknown errand, something about meeting with the Bannorns. She did not know the details on what it had entailed since it was not customary for a woman to deal with such matters. It had been months since the last she saw her brother, and she uttered a prayer to the Maker that he was not to leave any time soon.

“I trust your visit with the Bannorns went well?”

“It did, and during so, many of their sons had asked after you,” Fergus said, while not hiding the grin that tugged at his lips. “Surely, one of them will champion that rebellious heart of yours, dear sister.”

“I don’t foresee it.” Ophelia frowned. “When they hear about me, it is only ever of my beauty—as if I were some delicate flower, a rose perhaps? However, they happen to forget that roses also have thorns, and mine just happen to be made out of steel.”

Fergus laughed, finding the issue more amusing than worrisome. “Many do refer to you as ‘The Rose of Highever,’ so it would only make sense for them to view you as such.”

“Laugh all you want, dear brother, you know firsthand of their stupidity when it comes to women,” Ophelia said with a hint of annoyance. “Although, I do wish father would let me attend these political meetings. While I’m stuck entertaining their wives, you get to meet with all the important dignitaries.”

“Entertaining the wives is just as important as meeting with the dignitaries. If not more so,” he reminded her.

Ophelia groaned. She knew that he was right, but that did not mean she wanted to admit to it—especially not to her brother, who would never let her hear the end of it.

“But they are entirely _dull_ , though. None of them wish to speak of anything but their sons, and how I would make a perfect match with them,” Ophelia said. “It is quite tiresome and far too much for any sane person to deal with if you ask me.”

Fergus only smiled. “Are none of them truly worthy of your love, dear sister?”

She held her tongue this time. It was not her love that they wanted, she knew. Ophelia was the Teryn’s daughter, of course, a title second only to the king himself. Many arls and lords were eager to marry off their sons to such an important and highly respectable family name.

“Perhaps we should trade spot—you shall suffering while listening to the wives gossip and bicker, while I get to meet with the dignitaries and prove that I’m just as capable of handling such matters as you or father are,” Ophelia said, before noticing where they were. “Ah, it seems we have reached our destination, please do give Father my regards and disdain for not being invited to these diplomatic meetings.”

Just as she finished speaking, a stocky man who was outfitted in a doublet that represented the colors of the Cousland family—dark blue aligned with green, approached them.

“Ah, there you are,” Marcus Trailus said, who happened to be her father’s steward. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, my lady. However, the Teryna wishes to remind Lady Ophelia that she’s to attend today’s musical salon.”

Ophelia groaned. She had not forgotten about today’s gathering with the wives of the Bannorn. However, she did not anticipate talking about none other than potential suitors. It would not be so terrible if they spoke of different things, such as the latest fashion in Orlais or even new recipes they had discovered. Instead, they bore her with talk of their sons and how they would make an excellent match.

“Of course, let our mother know that my dear, sweet sister will be there,” Her brother said, offering her a sympathetic smile before heading inside the main hall where she could hear Teryn Bryce Cousland talk of politics with the local Bannorn.


	2. Why Must it Always be Rats?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the King has sent forward a message that more troops are needed for the upcoming battle, Ophelia finds herself to be in an unexpected position in the near future. Meanwhile, a renowned visitor makes an appearance at Castle Cousland and with the help of Ser Gilmore, Ophelia is required to help defend the castle from... unexpected visitors.

A week had passed and Ophelia found herself outside the chamber where she could hear her father in mid-conversation with somebody else. She assumed the other voice belonged to Arl Rendon Howe, and they were discussing the troop movements for the upcoming battle. News had arrived a couple of days prior, stating that not only was Fergus to join the King’s forces, but her father was well. The mere thought of living here for the next few months without them did not bid well with her. She prayed to the Maker every night that he would watch over them both, and return them to her as soon as possible.

“I trust that your troops will be here shortly?” the Teryn asked while standing before the large fire pit with his hands clasped behind him.

“I expect them to arrive tonight, and then we can march tomorrow,” answered Arl Rendon Howe, while he fidgeting beside his longtime friend and ally, anxiously glancing at the doors as though he were waiting for someone’s arrival. “I do apologize, my lord. This is entirely my fault.”

Bryce Cousland shook his head, walking over to Howe and clasped a hand on his shoulder, offering his old friend a smile. “Do not fret, my friend. The appearance of darkspawn in the south has caught us all off guard.” His smile vanished. “I was surprised to receive the summons from our King only days ago.”

Just by looking at the Teryn of Highever, one could tell the impact that the recent news of the blight has had on him. With the preparations being made for the upcoming movement to Ostagar and ensuring that everything will be in order on their return. The excitement had begun to wear on him, making him look years older.

“I’m sending Fergus, my eldest with my men,” Bryce said with the hint of a smile. “You and I will ride tomorrow, just like old times.”

“True,” the Arl of Amaranthine frowned. “Though, we were much younger then, with less grey in our hair. Also, we were fighting Orlesians, not… _monsters_.”

“Ah, there you are, Pup,” Bryce Cousland said when he saw Ophelia enter the main hall, with Ser Gilmore on her heels. She smiled in greeting and gave a slight curtsy when she saw that it was indeed Arl Howe who she had heard, and was currently standing beside her father. “You may leave us, Ser Gilmore.”

“As you say, my lord. I will await for her ladyship outside.” the Knight gave her a quick glance, before giving a slight bow and leaving the room.

Bryce placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulders as she took her place beside him. “Howe,” the Teyrn said, glancing over at the man beside him. “You remember my daughter, Ophelia?”

“I do, and might I add that your daughter is becoming quite the young lady, growing more and more lovely by the day. It is a pleasure to see you, my dear,” Arl Howe said to her, with a sly grin on his thin lips. “My son, Thomas, asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him along next time.”

Ophelia stifled a groan. She was in no mood to talk of potential suitors, especially if that suitor was the son of Arl Rendon Howe.

“To what end?” Ophelia asked, knowing all too well that his comment was only said to gauge her interest in a marriage proposal. “He is only a boy, after all.”

“‘ _To what end?_ ’ she says!” The Arl of Armathine chuckled to himself. “Oh, with glibness like that, she’s just like her mother.”

“See what I content with, Howe?” Her father teases, reaching up to caress his daughter's cheek. “There’s no telling my fierce girl anything these days. Maker bless her heart.”

“Quite talented, I’m sure,” Rendon Howe nodded. For a flicker of a moment, his smile faltered and reappeared just as quickly that for a brief moment, Ophelia wasn’t sure quite what she saw. “One to watch.”

Narrowing her eyes slightly, she watched him with curiosity. The tone in his voice seemed to have altered somewhat, which Ophelia thought was quite strange. Something about the Arl unsettled her greatly, but she couldn’t place what it was. Instead, she pushed it out of her mind.

“At any rate, Pup, I summoned you here for a reason,” Bryce stated while giving his daughter a warm smile. “I’m leaving you in charge of the castle while your brother and I are away. I’m sure you can handle the responsibility, as the men share a great deal of respect for you.”

“I will not fail you, Father,” Ophelia answered dutifully, despite her urge to repeat their previous argument about her coming along, but thought better of it.

“That’s my girl. Before you go, there is someone I would like you to meet,” The Teryn said as he gestured toward one of the guards in the room. “Please show Duncan in.”

Ophelia had been expecting a noble lord, or perhaps even a suitor her father wished to present to her in the possibility of a future marriage. However, she had not expected a Grey Warden to enter the main hall in full armored regalia. The silver plate and blue cloth, which was adorned with their sigil, the two-headed griffon, illuminated the room by the light coming in from the overhead windows. She recalled learning of these renowned warriors in several of her lessons with Aldous, the castle’s historian, as well as her private tutor—but never had she expected the opportunity to actually meet one.

“It’s an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teryn Cousland,” the Grey Warden, whose name was Duncan, said in a deep voice that was laced in a Rivani accent. His dark eyes landed on Ophelia, offering her a warm smile before bowing his head. “Lady Ophelia, I presume. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Returning his smile, she felt as the heat rose to her cheeks from the introduction. From what she could tell, Duncan was close to her father’s age. He wore his dark hair in a small ponytail so that to keep it from his face. His tanned face was set in a solemn expression as one would wear in such a dire situation. Even for a man at his age, Ophelia thought he was quite comely.

“I was unaware of a Grey Warden’s arrival, my lord,” said Arl Howe, a hint of displeasure in his tone. “I must say I am at a disadvantage.”

“Duncan is here to test Ser Gilmore’s potential as a recruit,” the Teryn informed them, flashing his daughter a sympathetic look.

Ophelia felt as if her breath caught in her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. Her longtime best friend was to be sent away to become a Grey Warden, and possibly never to return again. Surely the Maker was laughing at her misfortune. Not only was her father and brother leaving to go fight the darkspawn, but now Ser Gilmore was to join them. Surely there must be someone else—anyone else!

“If I might be so bold.” Duncan’s tone was casual, but it was evident that his dark eyes were weighing her potential skills. Perhaps he had witnessed her training with Ser Gilmore earlier that day. “I would also consider your daughter an excellent candidate, as well.”

Before Ophelia had time to process what the Grey Warden had just said, her father was standing protectively in front of her. “That is out of the question, Duncan. I do not have so many children that I would see them all off to battle—unless you wish to invoke the Right of Conscription?”

Her father’s voice had begun to quiver in the end as if he were afraid that his child was about to be taken away from him—and he would not be able to do a thing. Ophelia recalled what she had learned of the Right of Conscription in her lessons. She knew that once it was invoked, there was nothing that could undo the decision, not even by the words of a King. However, it was only used in dire situations—or so she thought it was.

“No, I do not wish to force the issue,” Duncan replied, his expression polite.

“Good,” Bryce Cousland said as if satisfied with the answer. “Pup, if you could go find Fergus and tell him to leave ahead of me with our men. I’m going to stay here and wait for Arl Howe’s men, and then we will catch up to him.”

Ophelia chewed on her lower lip. There were so many questions she wanted to ask Duncan about the Grey Wardens, but she knew they would have to wait. He was going to be staying for a while in the castle while her father and brother had gone off to fight darkspawn. “Of course, and where may I find him?”

“In his chambers upstairs, no doubt spending the last remaining moments with his wife and son before leaving,” her father answered, as a grin appeared on his face. “Hopefully, in due time, you too will have a husband—“

“Thank you, Father! I will go find him now,” she said quickly, not wanting to hear the rest. Ophelia gave a quick curtsy before leaving the entrance hall in search of her brother.

Outside the main hall, she found Ser Gilmore amid a conversation with her elven handmaiden, Ellania. Ophelia found herself smiling as she watched the two. Ellania, she knew, had been quite infatuated with the Knight for some time now, though she never admitted to it, which she didn’t need to. Whenever Ser Gilmore had come to escort Ophelia to her lessons every morning, her handmaiden’s face would brighten once there came a knock on her bedchamber door. Ellania would then greet him with a big smile and begin saying that he looked well.

“Ellania? What brings you here? Has something happened?” Ophelia asked with a hint of concern in her voice as she made her way to where they stood.

Her handmaiden was a few years younger than her, with hair the color of honey and large, brown, eyes. She was a pretty young thing, and Ophelia was quite fond of the elf—protective even. Her parents had been murdered by a group of elf hating drunkards, leaving her an orphan in the streets of Denerim. It was her father that had found Ellania, cold and hungry, who then took her under his wing and assigned the child as his daughter’s handmaiden.

Startled, Ellania quickly stepped away from the Knight, before giving a curtsy to Ophelia. “I-I apologize, my lady, I… did not see you there. I did not know when you would come out or else I would have—”

“Relax, Ellania, I’m not upset with you,” Ophelia said, giving her handmaiden a warm smile.

Once calmed down, Ellania spoke once more. “Of course, my lady. I came by to let you know that Amadis is causing trouble in the kitchens, and Nan is threatening to quit.”

Ophelia chuckled. “Nan was mine and Fergus’s nanny before she was assigned to being the cook. It’s an empty threat, I promise you.”

“Still, your mother wishes for you to settle the matter, my lady,” Ser Gilmore said suddenly, after being silent for quite some time. “You know how mabari hounds are. They will listen to their mistress, but anyone else risks losing a hand—or worse.”

“Amadis is well-trained and behaves like any good war hound should, and she knows better than to hurt anyone,” Ophelia assured him, not seeing how this was a concerning matter.

“As you say, my lady,” Ser Gilmore agreed before pressing the issue further. “However, it would be best to get Amadis out of the kitchens and away from Nan, wouldn’t you agree?”

He was right, after all. With the mabari causing an uproar in the kitchens, it would be impossible for Nan and the servants to prepare dinner for the soldiers before they leave for Ostagar—her brother included.

“Ellania, that will be all,” Ophelia said, before turning her attention to the Knight. “Let us be off to the kitchens then, shall we? Oh, and Ellania?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“After I fetch Amadis, I require a hot bath. Could you do that for me, my dear?” Ophelia asked, offering the handmaiden a smile. “I wish to rid myself of the stench from being near _Arl Howe.”_

Ellania gave a faint smile, obviously amused by the comment. “Of course, my lady. I will see to it right away.”

“You really don’t like the Arl of Amaranthine, do you?” Ser Gilmore asked as they made their way to the kitchens. “Was it something he said in there?”

Ophelia chewed her lip. She knew it wasn’t wise to discuss such matters openly. Especially when someone could easily report to the Arl after overhearing such a scandalous topic being discussed by non-other than Bryce Cousland's very own daughter. However, she knew those loyal to her father would never betray him.

“I don’t trust him,” she said, lowering her voice. “I know, it seems stupid, but there’s just something… _unnerving_ about him is all.”

“What do you mean?” Roderick asked, matching the same octane.

“His men have yet to arrive, and ours leave tonight along with Fergus,” Ophelia explained. “And he was acting… strange.”

“Ophelia, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. His men are probably just late due to the weather or something,” the Knight reassured her. “It happens all the time.”

Ophelia knew his words were meant to ease her worries, but they didn’t help much. There was something sinister going on, and it did not bode well with her. “I know this, but when my father introduced the Grey Warden, Duncan, he seemed… unsettled by it. You don’t think that—”

“Absolutely not!” Ser Gilmore said, cutting her off as if predicting the next words that were to come out. “The Teryn and Arl Howe have been friends for many years and fought many battles alongside each other during their youth. There would be no reason for him to betray your father.”

“House Cousland is one of the wealthiest and second most powerful family in Ferelden, that’s more than enough reason for someone to betray my father, Roderick, and you know it,” she argued.

Ser Gilmore opened his mouth as if to say something but was interrupted by a loud crashing noise that echoed throughout the halls ahead, followed by screaming. Ophelia knew the screaming was Old Nan, who was probably shouting insults at Amadis about how much of a nuisance and what a great, terrible beast she was.

Ophelia gathered her skirts and ran ahead with Ser Gilmore at her heels. Upon reaching the kitchen, they heard Amadis’s barks from the other side of the larder while Nan stood before it, her hands on her hips as she glared at the two elven servants before her. Their heads remained cast downward as the two entered the room.

“Get that bloody beast out of the larder!” Nan hissed, pointing at the larder door. “If I can’t get into that larder, I’ll skin both of you useless elves, by the Maker, I swear it!”

“But mistress! It won’t even let us near it!” The elven girl responded to the old woman, as she kept her head down.

“Please calm down, good woman,” Ser Gilmore said with a comforting voice, attempting to ease the growing tension that was coming to a boil. “We have come to help.”

The older woman turned to them, pointing an accusing finger at Ophelia. “ _You!_ ” She growled, with her eyes ablaze. “That bloody beast of yours keeps getting into my larder! It should be put down, I tell you!”

“Amadis is a pureblood mabari, not some wild beast!” Ophelia retorted, not bothering to hide the bite in her tone.

“I don’t care what if she was some magical creature, just get rid of her before I do!”

Ophelia chewed on her bottom lip, almost wanting to speak something that would be considered quick unladylike. However, she decided it would be best to keep silent so that the tension that was already growing did not wholly burst.

“As you wish,” Ophelia huffed as she stepped past Nan and through the door that led into the larder. Ser Gilmore followed and closed the door behind them.

Amadis was sniffing at the ground as if she had caught the scent of something and was currently tracking it. However, once she finally laid eyes Ophelia, she rushed over to her, barking happily.

“I see you’re off getting into trouble again, aren’t you Amadis?” She crouched down beside the mabari, all while scratching the top of the hound’s head. “What are you doing in the larder, girl?”

Roderick chuckled. “I see she takes after her owner. After all, the apple doesn’t land far from the tree, now does it?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous! She’s just had a string of bad luck is all.”

“Is that what you call it? Bad luck? I’ll make sure to remember that the next time you get in trouble.”

Ophelia scowled at the Knight. “Shut up.”

Suddenly, Amadis barked, which happened to startle both of them.

“What is it, girl?” She asked the mabari, as it padded across the room and began sniffing where some crates were piled up along the wall. “What’s the matter, Amadis?”

“I think she’s trying to tell you something, Ophelia,” Ser Gilmore commented, just as the squeaking of abnormally large rats could be heard coming from behind the crates.

“Rats!” Ophelia cried, drawing a dagger from where she kept it hidden within her skirts. Swiftly, she dealt with a couple of the disgusting, overgrown rodents as they came toward her. Ser Gilmore and Amadis also joined the fight, and the three of them killed dozens of rats that came out to meet them.

Once all the vermin were dealt with, Ophelia leaned against one of the walls as she shook terribly with fear. _Out of all the creatures that could have made its way into the castle,_ she thought miserably, _why did it have to be giant rats?_

“Are you alright, Ophelia?” Ser Gilmore asked, sheathing his sword back into the hilt. The Knight walked over to where the Teryn’s daughter stood, who was still catching her breath as the fear resided within her. “You weren’t bitten or anything, were you?”

Ophelia shook her head. “I… I’m okay, I promise.”

“Good. Now, can you tell me why such a fearless warrior such as yourself is so deathly afraid of _rats?”_ the Knight asked, a smirk appearing on his features.

“Because they’re nasty! You know how many diseases those things carry?!”

Ser Gilmore laughed. “At any rate, I’m just glad you were unharmed from the skirmish. Maker knows your father would tan my hide if anything had befallen you.”

“Is that the only reason, Roderick?” Ophelia teased.

“I..uh.. yes, absolutely,” Ser Gilmore stammered as a blush crept on his face. “We should head out there to let Nan know that the situation has been handled. Don’t mention anything about the rats though, she’s already upset as it is.”

Ophelia smiled at the victory. She knew all-too-well that the Knight only used her father as an excuse. He cared more about her safety than he let on, which Ophelia found enlightening.

“Where do you think they came from?” she asked, not wanting to know the answer. However, curiosity got the best of her. “The rats, I mean.”

“They looked like the ones from the Kocari Wilds,” Ser Gilmore answered.

Ophelia frowned. “The Kocari Wilds? That’s quite a ways away. How could they possibly end up here?”

Roderick shrugged. “It’s hard to say, perhaps the dangers of the blight had pushed them this far, who knows? Careful where you step.” Guiding her around the gore on the floor, they made their way to the door with Amadis padding along behind them.

“Well?” Nan asked once they emerged from the room. “Is it settled then?”

“It is settled,” Ser Gilmore confirmed. “And uh… sorry about the mess.”

The old woman glared at the Knight. “What mess? Ah! There she is! As brazen as she pleases! Licking her chops after getting into the roast, no doubt!”

“Mind what you say,” Ophelia snapped. “If it were not for Amadis, you would have a lot more to gripe about. She was only sniffing out the rats.”

Nan’s eyes widen. “R-rats?”

Ophelia nods. “Yes, nasty ones at that too.”

“The grey ones will rip you to shreds, they will!“ One of the servants cried out, not long before they both started to chatter uncomfortably.

“You needn’t worry. Amadis took care of them,” Ophelia said, offering them a warm smile, which she hoped would bring them comfort.

“Well, at least they’re taken care of,” the old woman grumbled. “That beast of yours probably led them into the kitchens, to begin with.”

Amadis whined, and Nan gave her a stern look.

“Oh, don’t you start with those sad eyes,” she told the mabari, and Amadis whined once more.

With a sigh, Nan picked up a leg roast from the table, offering it to Amadis. “Don’t say Nan never gives you anything. Now, off with you! We’ve got a meal to prepare if you’ll let us get back to it.”

“We won’t bother you any longer,” Ophelia said, giving the old woman a slight bow with her head. Together, she and Ser Gilmore leave the kitchens with Amadis in tow.

_Now to find Fergus and say my goodbyes,_ she thought grimly.


	3. Goodbye, Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia finds herself in a difficult situation when she hears the reasoning behind the Greywarden's arrival at Castle Cousland. Meanwhile, it is finally time for her to do the thing she dreaded for so long—to wish her brother farewell before he heads off to Ostagar to battle darkspawn, but not before coming face to face with familiar and new faces.

Ophelia and Ser Gilmore walked through the halls of the castle with Amadis padding at their heels. Her mind was swirling with thoughts—many of which were none too pleasant. The strangeness of Arl Howe's behavior from earlier still unnerved her greatly. She had never been too fond of her father’s old friend, as she always sensed something about the man was… _off_. Almost as if he were hiding something…

“Is everything okay, Ophelia?” Ser Gilmore asked as they walked. She had nearly forgotten the Knight was currently present as she had been lost in thought.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just have a lot on my mind is all,” she answered, half-truthfully, shaking her head as if to rid herself of such thoughts.

“You know, I have been told that I’m an excellent listener,” Roderick said, offering a smile that reached his bright, blue eyes.

Ophelia returned a small smile. “I’m just worried about the upcoming battle is all, with my father and brother away, I’m to be the one in charge. I don’t know if I’m even qualified enough for such a task.”

It wasn’t the entire truth, but she did not wish to bring up their previous conversation She knew there was no point in trying to convince the Knight of her speculations on the Arl, no matter how persuasive she could be. Besides, it wasn’t entirely a lie either since the thought of the battle did not sit well with her.

“You have nothing to fear, Ophelia. There are to be at least 50,000 men and women at Ostagar, and that’s including the mages,” Ser Gilmore said, in an attempt to comfort her. “Your father would never have appointed you as the one in charge if he didn’t think you were fit for it. Besides, the Teryna will be there to counsel you, and I will be at your side, as always.”

Her smile faltered while fighting the tears that were threatening to come. “Except that’s only half true, Roderick. You won’t be here by my side, or ever again for that matter. The Grey Warden—Duncan, he’s planning to recruit you.”

“What? You can’t be serious?”

“You know I wouldn’t lie to you about such things…”

“But—Who will protect you once I’m gone? Surely there must be a better candidate than myself?”

Ophelia wanted to hug him. Out of all the reasons he could have said for not wanting to join the Grey Wardens, it was her that he thought of first. It was never his own self that he worried about most, it was always her and her alone.

“Roderick, you know there’s nothing that can be done,” she said, wishing it were somehow untrue. “Someone new will be assigned or perhaps no one at all. After all, I’m not the defenseless damsel I was all those years ago. You will be off to join a legendary group of warriors—which might I add, you would make an excellent candidate for.”

After a long, never-ending silence, Ophelia looked up at her friend. The look on his face tore at the seams of her heart. It was as if a million battles were happening inside his head, and he didn’t know how he could possibly win either of them. Not wanting to endure this any longer, she grabbed hold of his calloused hand, causing him to halt his steps and look down at the Teryn’s daughter.

“You are my dearest friend, Roderick, and as much as it pains me to say this, please, don’t fight it. There is no outcome in which you would win in this situation,” Ophelia said, offering him her best smile. “Besides, after everything is over, I could come and visit you. Would you like that?”

A small smile appeared at the corner of the Knight’s lips. “Yes… I would like that quite a lot.”

“Good. Now, let us not waste any more time. I would like to wish my brother farewell while I still have the chance.”

Rounding the corner, they found the Teryna speaking with some guests, two of which Ophelia recognized as Lady Landra, and her son, Dairen. The third, however, was one she did not know. An elven woman with a slender build, with hair the color of honey stood between Lady Landra and her son. Ophelia thought she was quite pretty. They approached, and Eleanor Cousland greeted her daughter, while Ser Gilmore bowed politely.

“Ah, here is my lovely daughter. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchens has been dealt with?”

Amadis barked at the mention of her name, startling the young elf. Ophelia gave her an apologetic smile before turning her attention back toward the Teryna.

“Yes, Mother. Nan is back to work as we speak,” Ophelia answered, avoiding to bring up the reason why Amadis was causing trouble in the first place, as there were guests present.

“That’s good to hear,” the Teryna answered. “You remember Lady Landra, Bann Loren’s wife?”

Lady Landra stepped forward to greet her. “I believe we last met at your mother’s spring salon. It was quite a lovely occasion.”

“Of course. It is good to see you once more, my lady,” Ophelia agreed, offering the Bann’s wife a warm smile. She remembered Lady Landra getting quite drunk on wine after her mother had told the servants to bring it up from the cellar. It resulted in even more brazen, but unsuccessful attempts to get Ophelia to agree to a marriage proposal with her son.

“You are too polite, dear girl. I do remember spending the evening trying to persuade you to marry my son. However, like you, he is still yet to be married.”

“And you’re still making a feeble case for it, I might add,” Dairren interjected, turning towards Ophelia with a bright smile. “Don’t listen to her. I can assure you that I came here, not as a suitor, but to assist your father.”

She furrowed her brows. “My father?”

“I’m to accompany him when we ride out tomorrow as his second. It is quite the honor, I might add,” he said, giving her a pleasant smile.

“Then, I trust you will make sure that you will keep my father safe and, most importantly, alive?” Ophelia asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“I will do whatever it takes to make sure the Teryn is safely returned to his family.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something but was cut off by Lady Landra before she could muster a word.

“Anyway, this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona,” Lady Landra said, interrupting the two as she motioned to the woman beside her. “Do _say_ something, my dear.”

“It is quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady,” the elf—Iona said with such shyness. “The rumors of your beauty were not falsehoods, it seems.”

Ophelia blushed at her words. Although, she might have said the same about Iona. From afar, the elf looked merely pretty, but up close… it was an entirely different matter. Her honey-colored hair was long and worn in a beautiful crown plait as elven ears peeked out from the sides. Her large eyes were stunningly blue, like cornflowers, that sparkled when the light hit them. Ophelia smiled in thanks to the compliment.

“And yet that doesn’t seem to make it any easier to find a suitable match for her,” added the Teryna.

“I would say that you should be proud to have a daughter who’s most skilled, my lady,” Dairren interjects, offering Ophelia a smile.

“But alas, pride doesn’t get me any more grandchildren,” Eleanor sighed, looking to her daughter.

“Mother!” Ophelia groaned, not wanting to hear no more talk of marriage or even grandchildren.

“Well, I suppose we shall retire until the evening. We will see you all at dinner,” Lady Landra said, before taking her leave.

As she and Iona dismiss themselves and head back towards the castle, Dairren reaches for Ophelia's delicate hand and pressing his lips against it in a tender kiss, before peering up at her. “It was a pleasure to see you once more, my lady. Shall I see you later?”

At the corner of her eye, she saw Ser Gilmore tense slightly at the gesture.

“I—of course, Dairren,” Ophelia said sweetly, offering him a smile. Watching the young man leave, she felt her face burn from the flirtation.

“What a charming young man,” the Teryna mused.

“Mother, no,” Ophelia warned, not wanting to hear more of this.

Eleanor raised a brow. “No, what?”

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.”

The Teryna sighed. “You must marry at some point, Ophelia, and he’s a polite, handsome young man from a good family…”

“Yes, I know. I’m just… not ready is all. I do wish to enjoy my youth while I can, which I hope is something you can understand, mother.”

“Of course, my dear,” Eleanor said, finally defeated as she reaches to caress her daughter’s cheek. “By the Maker, how you have grown so quickly! I still remember when we used to walk around the gardens when you were little. Do you remember?”

Ophelia smiles fondly at the memory. “I do, actually. We would walk around, and you would continuously point out the different types of flowers as we passed. Afterward, we would sit below our favorite tree, the slightly crooked one, and you would read to me.”

“Yes,” the Teryna chuckled, as her hand fell back to her side once more. “You were always fond of stories about heroes and princesses…”

“Ser Gilmore, Fergus, and I used to play ‘princess in the tower’ numerous times when we were children,” Ophelia said with a laugh as she glanced over the Knight. “And sometimes we added a dragon… or two.”

“That too,” Eleanor said, with a slight sadness appearing in her eyes. “I love you, my sweet girl.”

“I love you too, mother.”

Reaching to tuck a stray strand behind Ophelia’s ear, the Ternya sighed. “Oh, how I wish you and Fergus didn’t grow up so quickly! Soon, you will be running the castle with your father gone while your brother leaves tonight. Have you said your goodbyes yet?”

Ophelia shook her head. “Not yet. We were actually on our way there before running into you.”

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. We can speak later if you like,” Eleanor offered, before embracing her daughter. When she finally pulled away, the Teryna looked over Ophelia and smiled, before taking her leave. She watched as her mother walked away, before making her way to the bedroom chambers with both Ser Gilmore and Amadis following behind.

As they grew nearer, Ophelia could hear her nephew through the open doorway. His tiny voice bringing a smile to her face.

“Will you bring me back a sward?” Oren asked, his eyes widening as he looked up at his father.

Fergus chuckled, kneeling before his son. “It’s _sword,_ Owen, and I will find you the mightiest one that I can find.”

“Promise, papa?” Oren asked in that small voice that Ophelia loved so much.

“I promise,” Fergus agreed, while gently grasping his son’s shoulders. “And here is my sweet sister, coming to see me off.” He grinned, as Fergus noticed Ophelia entering the room from the corner of his eye. “With Roderick at her side, no less!”

Ser Gilmore bowed in greeting to the young lord while offering a smile. “I am duty-bound to protect your sister, my lord, even if she doesn’t need it no more.”

The words pierced through Ophelia’s heart as she reflects back to their previous conversation. It is quite apparent that he was hurt by the news… something she now regrets ever bringing to light with him.

“Sister?” Oren asked, confused. “But that’s Auntie Ophelia!”

Ophelia chuckled as she mussed his hair. “I am both actually.”

“Hey!” her nephew cried out.

“Mother and Father had insisted that I come to say goodbye since it could be quite some time before I will see you again…” she said, coming to stand near her brother.

Before Fergus can speak, his wife, Oriana, interrupted whatever it is that he was about to say. “Ophelia! Don’t speak like that in front of Oren!”

Her brother frowned. “She didn’t mean anything by it, love.”

“Of course not!” Ophelia said, immediately trying to fix her poor choice of words. “I only meant that the journey to Ostagar is quite long, and depending on the weather, it could be months until he returns.”

Oriana’s solemn expression remained, as it appeared that she was not convinced. However, she said nothing more of the matter.

“Besides," Ophelia grinned, placing a delicate hand on his armored shoulder. "Nothing could ever harm Fergus. He's one of our best warriors—well _second_ best.”

"Ha! It seems not even I can surpass my little sister’s prowess with a sword and shield!” Fergus laughed. "It is a shame you aren't coming with me, though. It's going to be quite tiresome killing all those darkspawn by myself."

"A woman fighting in battle?" Oriana asked, slightly surprised. "In Antiva, the very idea of that would be... _unthinkable!_ ”

"Really?" Fergus's mouth contorted into a grin. "I always heard that Antivian women were dangerous."

Oriana cracked a smile. "Only with kindness and poison, my sweet husband."

Fergus's eyes widen before he lets out a round of laughter. Turning to Ophelia, he motioned back towards his wife. "You hear that? And this is from the woman who serves me my tea!"

"Honestly, for putting up with you so much, I'm actually surprised she hasn't yet." Ophelia chuckled, earning a laugh from both.

"Poison papa?" Oren gaped, with eyes wide. "Don't do that!"

Oriana knelt beside him, smoothing down his coppery hair, gently quieting him. "We're only joking Oren," his mother reassured him in a soothing voice.

"Besides," Ophelia continued from before. "Father isn’t so keen on sending me off into battle, just yet.”

“Which would be best, might I add. You would be much safer here within the castle walls than taking arms against… _darkspawn_.” Fergus remarked, frowning at the thought.

Ophelia arched a brow in response to her brother’s words, all while folding her arms across her chest. “You know well enough that I could handle myself in battle, dear brother. Simply ask Roderick!”

She looked over towards the Knight, who had been silently standing off to the side during the entirety of their conversation. Ophelia saw that he wore a smile upon his face, one that matched his bright, blue eyes.

“I’m not typically one who takes sides between the two of you, but she does speak the truth,” Roderick agreed, his eyes meeting hers. “I pity any poor fool who meets your sister in battle.”

Ophelia smiled as she felt a rush of pride coarse through her body at hearing the words.

"Even so, I'm not looking forward to the journey since we're quite short on men," Fergus said, shaking his head. "I still can't believe that Arl Howe's men are delayed _again_! You would think they were marching backward or something."

Her smile faltered, remembering the conversation her father had with the Arl of Amaranthine. The periodic glances towards the doors and the disappointment with finding out that a Grey Warden was here at the castle. Ophelia felt deep within her bones that something was off about the entire thing. However, there was nothing to be done about it. It wasn’t as if she could accuse the Arl of treachery with no proof…

"It's a shame Duncan won't be riding out with you though,” Ophelia said, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Being a Grey Warden, I imagine he would be of great use against the darkspawn."

"A grey warden?" Oren exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement. "Did he ride here on a griffin?"

"Shush, Oren." His mother chided. "Griffins only appear in stories now."

Fergus turned toward his sister. "I heard about there being a grey warden here, but I was never told why. Do you know?"

Ophelia nodded, her stomach knotting up as she glances over at Ser Gilmore. "Duncan has come here because he’s looking for recruits." She said, meeting her brother’s gaze. "Apparently, he has his eyes set upon Roderick."

Although she dared not to let it show, Fergus knew what to look for when something was amiss with his little sister. Even now, he saw as her demeanor changed in front of him. Although the two of them grew up together with Ser Gilmore. It was Ophelia who held the closest relationship with the Knight—as they spent countless days around each other.

She watched as her brother’s gaze shifted toward her friend. "Roderick is a good man and capable of holding his own in a fight," Fergus said, with a sad smile. "It is no surprise that Duncan would consider having him within his ranks."

“I appreciate the kind words, my lord,” Ser Gilmore said with a smile that no longer reached his eyes. “If I am to join the ranks of the Wardens, then let it be known that it has been an honor to be in the service of such a noble family.”

With a tight smile, Ophelia nodded in agreement. An unbearable silence has fallen upon them before the sound of Fergus clearing his throat echoing throughout the room. "Anyways," He continued, offering her a grin. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze my arse off in the southern rains. I will be quite jealous of you being here at the castle, little sister, all warm and safe."

"Don’t forget there’s better food here as well,” Ophelia remarked, cracking a smile.

Oriana let out a breath. "I'm so glad to hear you will be so miserable, my love."

Fergus chuckled. "I was only kidding." Letting out a deep breath, he looks over at the four of them. "Well, I should probably head out then. The darkspawn aren't going to kill themselves—although I wouldn’t lose sleep if they did.”

Oriana wrinkled her petite nose. "Fergus!"

Her brother opened his mouth but was instead interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway. "Good, you haven't left yet!"

They all turned to look where the voice had come from as both, Teyrn and Teyrna stride in together. "Actually, I was just about to,” Fergus said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Eleanor Cousland frowned as she pulled her son into an embrace. "Be well, my son." She said with such gentleness. "I will pray to the Maker for your safety, every day that you are gone."

"Thank you, Mother." He responded, the octane of his voice so low that Ophelia could barely hear his words. "You know well enough that no darkspawn can best me."

Stepping away from Fergus, she wiped away the treacherous tear that had escaped and made its way down her cheek. Afterward, Bryce Cousland stepped forward, embracing his son in his arms.

"Stay safe out there, my boy," The Teryn said, clasping his son's shoulder with a solemn smile spread across his face. "Both Howe, and I will see you in Ostagar.”

"The Maker sustain and preserve us all," Oriana spoke in prayer. "Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers and bring them safely back to us."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it!" Fergus bellowed with a laugh.

Ophelia remembered how he never was one to like overly serious or ominous moments like these. It was something that she was thankful that stayed with him even after spending years preparing to become the next Teryn.

"Fergus!" Oriana scolded, shooting him a glare. "You would really say that in front of your mother?"

Fergus offered his wife a sheepish smile. "Err... for the other soldiers, I mean. I don't need any wenches since I have you, my love."

"What's a wench?" Oren asked, innocently. "Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?"

"No, my dear boy," Bryce chuckled, as he knelt beside the child. "A wench is a woman who pours the ale in a tavern." He then lowered his voice. "Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

"Bryce!" Eleanor exclaimed while stifling a laugh. "Maker's breath! It's like living with a pair of small boys. Thankfully I have a daughter who actually acts with decency."

A knowing look is exchanged between the two siblings, as Fergus is trying his best to suppress a laugh. “I will miss you, Mother, dear,” he managed after clearing his throat. “I’m sure Ophelia will take good care of you while father and I are gone. Isn’t that right, little sister?”

Ophelia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, not wanting to risk a scolding from their parents due to such childlike behavior. "Maker knows that Mother can handle herself. Always has.”

"That's true," Fergus said, with a smile upon his face. "Perhaps they should be sending her to Ostagar instead of me. She would scold those darkspawn back into the deep roads.”

"Well, I'm glad you find this so funny." Eleanor retorted.

"Enough, enough," Bryce chuckled, touching his wife's shoulder before glancing over to Ophelia. "If you haven't already, say your goodbyes, pup. You’ll want to get an early night’s rest since there will be much to do on the morrow.”

Ophelia nodded before walking over to Fergus and throwing her arms around him in an embrace. "Goodbye, dear brother." She said, trying to restrain the tears that threaten to come. "Fight well, and I will see you on your return.”

"Goodbye, little sister." He said, returning the gesture. “Do stay out of trouble, won’t you?”

Ophelia cracked a smile. “Anything for you, dear brother.”

Wishing the others good night, she turned on her heel with Ser Gilmore and Amadis following behind. Ophelia could hear her father strike up a conversation once more with her brother, as she began to head down the corridor toward her bed-chamber.

“Are you okay, Ophelia?” Roderick asked while he kept pace beside her. “Saying goodbye couldn’t be easy for you, especially since your brother had just returned.”

She quickly wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “No, but I will be. The upcoming months will be enduring, but it will keep my mind preoccupied. However, I must face them as a Teryn’s daughter and not as some weakminded child.”

“Just because you fear for their safety, doesn’t make you weak,” Ser Gilmore reminded her. “It makes you human, Ophelia. They are your family, after all.”

Ophelia let out a breath. “You’re right, of course, but you must remember that I am also a woman—some will already think I am not fit simply because of that fact. I must prove them wrong, Roderick. _I must._ ”

“Of course, I’m sure you will do what you think is best for your people and for Highever,” Ser Gilmore said. “I have the utmost faith in you.”

Reaching her chambers, Ophelia looked up at the Knight—who was also her dearest friend and smiled. “Thank you, Roderick. It will make the couple months all the more bearable, after hearing those words. Goodnight, Roderick.”

“Goodnight, Ophelia,” he answered. “I will see you come morning.”

Ser Gilmore watched as Ophelia disappeared inside her room, along with her mabari hound. Taking his leave, he finally felt as his heart steadied its pace as it had quickened when being near the Teryn’s daughter as it often did. The Knight didn’t like to think much of it, but deep down, he knew his feelings towards her grew with every passing day to the point that it was almost unbearable. Not to mention the thought of being recruited into the Grey Warden ranks didn’t sit well with him either. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility of going a day without seeing her beauty. Perhaps tomorrow he will finally speak to her of the matter? Because the truth is… he loved her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever making a multi-chapter fic, and it's only the second one I have ever really made... so I do hope you all will go easy on my perhaps? Anyway, I do hope you will enjoy this and I also hope you will stay to follow my warden along with her adventures!!
> 
> Also, just as a heads up, the graphic warning will be applied to future chapters!!


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